


make my wish come true

by Dandybear



Category: Life Is Strange (Video Game)
Genre: Christmas Fluff, Christmas in February, F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-10
Updated: 2016-02-10
Packaged: 2018-05-19 11:06:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 17,846
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5965018
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dandybear/pseuds/Dandybear
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Maximum Victory Christmas fluff. </p><p>Victoria gets invited to the Caulfields for the holidays. It's a nice chill time.</p>
            </blockquote>





	make my wish come true

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ladyptarmigan](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ladyptarmigan/gifts).



> This is a commission for the lovely ladyptarmigan! She wanted some Chasefield Christmas fluff all the way back in November. Life kinda got in the way of getting it out on time, but I hope I've done the prompt justice.
> 
> The use of Santa Buddies is anachronism here. The actual film came out in 2009. I couldn't find a ridiculous and contemporary replacement.
> 
> In writing this I learned that fluff isn't my strong suit, so it's more humourous with a lot of micro conflicts. Believe me, I was sweating while holding myself back from angst or supernatural horror. 
> 
> AO3 deletes a lot of my formatting and I am a tired old lady who doesn't like going back in and fixing things.

“Do you ever wonder what Christmas is like in places where there’s actual snow?” Max says.

 

She watches wind and rain whip past the window. The trees by the dorm kitchen shake back and forth with each twist of the vortex. Rain coats the pane and dots the surface with a wet splat.

 

“My family usually goes to the ski hill for Christmas, so I’ve had a few white ones.” Victoria says.

 

She hands Max a cup of hot chocolate stacked with more whipped cream than liquid.

 

“Jesus, Victoria. What is this?”

 

Her face scrunches up, “You told me to make it the way I like it.”

 

“Right, I keep forgetting that you’re at a high diabeetus risk.”

 

Victoria scoffs, “Fine, bitch, you can make your own damn hot chocolate next time.”

 

“That’s at least two dollars for the swear jar.”

 

Victoria sticks her tongue out, with swift fingers Max grabs it.

 

“Kwihth thuching muh thung weiiio!”

 

Max cackles at her victory for about two seconds before she slops hot chocolate on herself and lets go. She yelps at the mixture of hot liquid and greasy cream.

 

Victoria sets down her drink and grabs a wet cloth.

 

“Ugh, you klutz. You could seriously hurt yourself one of these days.”

 

“Your concern, like your tone is noted.”

 

“Are you two gaying it up in here?” Taylor says.

 

She pads in wearing thermal socks and short shorts to grab a box of pop tarts off the top of the fridge. They say ‘Alyssa’. She shovels one into her mouth.

 

“We were bi-ing it up if that’s a thing. This is a bisexual built for two.” Max says.

 

Victoria snorts into her hot chocolate and Taylor chokes on the pop tart.

 

She’d help them but she’s honestly too damn proud of the reaction to that joke.

 

After a good deal of coughing and pounding of her chest, Taylor sputters, “Well, it’s a good thing I’m here then.”

 

“What?”

 

“What?”

 

“To gay up the place properly.” She says.

 

Max and Victoria nod slowly. Taylor pouts. The timing took her quip from quirky and fun to awkward.

 

Max laughs because she’s been there. Victoria follows suit because mean girl pack behaviour is ingrained.

 

Stella enters the kitchen with a clear storm cloud over her head. She shoots them a glare before opening the fridge to crack another energy drink.

 

“Hey Stella,” Max’s voice goes soft, “Another late night?”

 

“It’s hard to study with all this racket. Are those Alyssa’s pop tarts?”

 

Taylor’s eyes go owlish, she purses her lips and offers Stella the box. Stella takes it and starts opening a cellophane package.

 

“These things taste like ass.” She says, pushing a chunk into her mouth and wincing.

 

Victoria opens her mouth and both Max and Taylor shush her.

 

“How did you know what I was gonna say?” She whirls on both of them.

 

“Because you’re filthy.” “Because you’re you.”

 

“Aight, I’m going back to my room. Can you all keep it down? And Taylor, quit eating Alyssa’s food.” Stella says, saluting with her Red Bull.

 

“You just did!” Taylor stomps a padded foot.

 

“Do as I say, not as I do.”

  
  


“Dear Mariah Carey, shut the fuck up.” Max groans.

 

It’s the third department store they’ve entered that’s been playing ‘All I Want for Christmas is You’ on loop. She makes the same exasperated sigh as she did the other two times.

 

“This is literally my favourite Christmas song.” Victoria says.

 

“Your favourite Christmas song is terrible.” Max says.

 

“I’m sure you only listen to vintage Christmas albums on vinyl.”

 

Victoria huffs and storms off to sort through scarves. Max watches her butt as she leaves. Victoria used to be such an enigma. A jerk who deep down is a sweet girl, who deeper down is a bigger jerk with a big heart. And, right now she’s flustered and pretending to be mad.

 

Max blows out a sigh and follows in the wake.

 

“Ugh, this is so last season. I can’t believe they’re selling it at full price.”

 

She’s holding up a scarf and making a face like she’s smelled something awful.

 

“I’m going to complain.”

 

Max headbutts her shoulder.

 

“Please don’t make a fuss about a scarf.”

 

“It’s insulting to think they can get away with this.”

 

“You say that like they’ve stolen pirate dubloons and we’re chasing them on a speed boat.”

 

Victoria nods and hums, then pauses, looking down at Max through dark eyes.

 

“That was an oddly specific example.” She says, folding the scarf.

 

“I’ve been marathoning Johnny Quest with Dana.”

 

“Oh yeah?” Her voice is strained, “Getting chummy with Barbie are we?”

 

“Victoria, don’t be jellin. Me and Dana are friends, and like Barbie, she is an enthusiastic woman of many skills and friends.”

 

Victoria folds her mouth and arms. Max tugs on them pulling her into a hug.

 

“I may hang with Barbie, but you know you’re my favourite monster. Oscar the Cookie Grouch.”

 

She feels the grumble building in her girlfriend rather than hears it.

 

“I don’t know what to get your parents.”

 

“I told you, they just want to meet you.”

 

“Max. It’s a manners things. They need to know that I’m a good guest with wealth capable of supporting you.”

 

“Okaaayy?”

 

Victoria sniffs and storms off to another rack. Max sighs resignedly. Just looking at the price tags here makes her eyes cross and she just knows waiting outside will be too cold to be worth it, Mariah Carey aside. 

 

“Let’s go.” Victoria says, suddenly at her ear.

 

“Jesus!” Max clutches her chest.

  
  


It’s already dark outside, the big buildings of Portland’s downtown don’t protect from the wind and rain, if anything, they help funnel it up from the waterfront. Max’s teeth chatter. They stop to wait for the Green Train to take them a few stops toward where they parked.

 

“I’d suggest walking, but you didn’t bring a proper jacket.”

 

Max nods from her spot tucked against Victoria’s side.

 

They sit together watching the sea of umbrellas and brick buildings go past. Two more stops. One more stop.

 

Rose Quarter. 

 

Victoria’s eyesore of a yellow mercedes is waiting for them in the parking lot. Max blows on her fingers while waiting for Victoria to unlock and open the doors, which she insists on doing as a part of some kind of warped chivalry

 

Fortunately, it takes only a minute or so for her seat to heat up. She lets her body sink into the leather upholstery, ready for the two hour drive back to Arcadia Bay.

 

Once done fiddling with the stereo, Victoria looks pointedly at Max. Max glances back.

 

“Thanks for taking me shopping.” Max says.

 

“Did you have fun?” Victoria says.

 

Not really. Hasty wild eyed mothers carrying too many bags had pinned her against walls or knocked her into displays more than once. Groups of grown ass men crowded every sidewalk, completely ignoring how obnoxious their lack courtesy was. Respect the walking lanes, assholes.

 

Christmas music. The air smelling of desperation. Victoria charging through each store like a fucking tank.

 

Lunch was nice. Sushi and ramen sitting knee to knee in a little hole in the wall that is ‘sooo authentic’. The warmth of held hands through the crowds was a little tether to the moment to keep her from wandering off to take pictures of puddles.

 

“Yeah. It was fun.” Max says in a small voice.

 

Victoria swallows hard and looks at the road.

 

She doesn’t look convinced. Max covers her hand on the gear shift. Will this do? Is this comforting.

 

“I guess you’re just not used to high class shopping.”

 

Which is vaguely insulting.

 

“That was high class?” Max volleys back.

 

Victoria shifts gears and Max moves her hand, content to watch the houses go by.

 

She jumps again as the bass on the speakers suddenly starts hammering. Then the impossible to misplace horn section from ‘Talk Dirty to Me’.

 

Max looks at Victoria who wiggles her eyebrows and bursts out laughing.

 

* * *

 

The parking lot is devoid of life, minus a few of Samuel’s squirrels. They gather their bags from the back seat and hold hands back to the dorm, bags knocking together all the way.

 

Upon entering the dorms they find everyone on their floor spread out with a Risk board. About a dozen faces illuminated by their phones.Kate and Dana look paired up. Kate with her knitting and Dana doing crunches.

 

On the other end, Alyssa and Stella are mulling over strategy. Stella’s stroking an imaginary beard and Alyssa is inspecting her box of pop tarts with confusion.

 

Next to them are Juliet and Brooke, who look to be dialing it in, both on their phones. Courtney and Taylor are moving pieces across the board in an aggressive manner.

 

“Hey guys.” Max pauses.

 

Victoria pauses too, despite tugging at Max’s hand.

 

“Victoria. Come help us crush our enemies!” Courtney says.

 

“Haha, that’s hilarious because you two are totally losing.” Stella says.

 

“You’re all going to be crushed under Asia’s boots.” Kate says.

 

Dana regards her partner with concern, “Kate, can you chill on your whole… spreading Communism run?”

 

“An army of the people is invincible.” Kate says over her knitting.

 

“As my knitta says, we’re winning.” Dana says.

 

Max is bent at the waist busting a gut over ‘my knitta’.

 

“Communism is a flawed system and Mao committed genocide. What the actual fuck, Kate?” Brooke jumps in.

 

“Much of the genocide attributed to Mao occurred during the Civil War, which there were civilian casualties. Or the Great Leap Forward, which was because other leaders were telling him that people had enough to eat when they were starving.”

 

This rant has everyone looking away from their phones and up at Kate.

 

Juliet swipes and scrolls through a few webpages, “Huh. Yeah, that’s actually right.”

 

“I guess it’s less problematic than the Japanese,” Max offers up, “Have fun taking over the world, gang.”

 

“This game is so fucking boring.” Alyssa says.

 

Courtney makes a frustrated noise and smacks the board, sending pieces across the floor.

  
  


Max follows Victoria down the hall toward their rooms. Doors facing each other, a mirror image. Max isn’t sure what follows. In the movies the guy follows the girl to her door for a kiss. In the movies the guy waits to be invited in.

 

In the movies the guy doesn’t live directly across the hall.

 

In the movies it’s never girl meets girl. The ones where it is can be counted on two hands, and the ones where it ends well on one hand. Warren doesn’t keep those kind of movies on his flash drive, and shot her such a look when she brought it up.

 

A combination of that and being seen in a lip lock with Victoria Chase has reduced the flow of Warren’s texts from a rushing river to the occasional drop.

 

“I did have fun hanging out with you.” Max says, convincing the walls around them quite nicely.

 

Victoria has her hands on her hips in a power pose, top lit to give her an intimidating scowl. Her knees wobble under Max’s gaze. Max presses forward, pushing Victoria up against the door and pinning her with her mouth.

 

The door swings open knocking them reeling back into a third figure.

 

Nathan shrieks at being crushed under the two of them.

 

“Nathan, what the hell?!” Victoria shrieks back at him.

 

Max winces, getting up to avoid the yelling banshees tangled on the floor.

 

“You texted me that it was an emergency!” He says.

 

“That text is from when I needed tampons two days ago.” She says.

 

Max hovers in the door waiting to see if she should leave or stay and see how this goes.

 

“Oh. Shit, really?”

 

“Check the date.”

 

Victoria crawls off Nathan and stands, dusting herself off instead of offering a hand. Nathan seems content to lie on the floor while checking his phone. 

 

“Man, I really gotta get my shit together.” Nathan says.

 

He scrubs his face with the hand not holding the phone.

 

“Can you do that somewhere other than my floor?” Victoria says.

 

He looks up at them from under his lids.

 

“Why does Nathan buy you tampons?” Max says quietly.

 

“If you two were planning on getting freeakkaayy then don’t let me stop you.” He runs his tongue over his teeth.

 

“Gross.” Max folds her arms.

 

“Nathan, out!”

 

In a show of surprise agility, he gets up with a handspring, then knocks over Victoria’s expensive lamp. Max can’t help the laughter that bubbles out of her. Victoria begins to shriek intelligibly and Nathan books it out the door.

 

“Victoria, it’s a lamp.”

 

“A lamp that cost more than anything you own!” She says.

 

Max leans back, any affection melting with Victoria’s tantrum. She stuffs her hands into her jean pockets and tips back out of the doorway.

 

“See ya.” She says.

 

Max is tab switching between Amazon and Ebay. Polaroid film is expensive, Polaroid Spectra Film is hella expensive. She switches back to Facebook. Chloe’s just uploaded some photos of her backpacking trip around Europe. Max scrutinizes the girl Chloe’s with (nose ring, green hair, swallow tattoo) when there’s a knock at the door.

 

Victoria has her hands tucked behind her back instead of on her hips.

 

“Sorry, I was being kinda neurotic.”

 

Max raises her eyebrows in response.

 

“It’s just a lamp?”

 

Max tilts her head, hand still on the door.

 

“I don’t know what you want from me!”

 

“Do you wanna watch a movie?” Max says.

 

Because the thing about Victoria is that when she gets like this, distraction and pulling away her expectations does a good job of cutting through defensive bullshit.

 

“I… uh, yeah, sure?”

 

The movie cools them off. Dark room, quiet blowing of Max’s laptop fan. Edward Norton is narrating his life in third person. This is Jack’s 90’s hit. Her attention is shifted to the warm breath on her neck. Through the corner of her eye she looks at Victoria.

 

Victoria is watching the screen with a faked focus.

 

The hand attached to the arm slung over Max’s shoulders is drawing small circles on her upper arm. It’s hard to pay attention to anything else. That breath becomes a pair of sticky lips. Max can feel her pulse jumping in her wrists and thighs.

 

“Did you know that they edited in footage of--of--”

 

“Porn into this. Yeah.” Victoria’s voice is right below her ear.

 

“And, uh, images of Brad Pitt.”

 

That hand has made a trail to Max’s collarbone and is now hovering over her breast. She growls in her throat and turns to catch Victoria’s mouth with her own.

 

Victoria falls back against the cushion easily. Max slides her legs up and onto the couch to better straddle Victoria’s torso. The seam of her jeans is tight enough to rub up against her crotch, which fills with liquid heat. She chokes and pants, looking down at Victoria. Her eyes are lidded and her mouth is slightly parted.

 

“Is this okay?” Max says.

 

Victoria pulls her down so they’re stomach to stomach. Max releases an ‘oof’ as hands come to squeeze her ass. 

 

It’s weird, the bumping of faces and mashing of mouths. She likes catching Victoria on the lips, but when the tongue slips out she gets slobber on her face. Then Victoria sucks on her tongue and she goes cross eyed. 

 

“Fuck.” She gets up on her elbows and takes a moment.

 

Victoria’s thumb is brushing circles against her hip. There’s uncertainty in her eyes that has Max backing off.

 

“I don’t wanna have sex tonight.” She says.

 

“Okay.” Victoria relaxes.

 

“This is good for me.” Max says.

 

She lowers herself and dollops another kiss on Victoria’s mouth.

  
  


The sun hasn’t even crawled over the horizon. Scratch that, it hasn’t even considered it. It’s seven o’clock. What is this nonsense?

 

Max’s legs are shivering in the passenger seat. Her breath comes out in little cloud puffs. Victoria looks warm in her mink coat. Despite her party girl lifestyle and devil-may-care attitude, Victoria has managed to coffee her way into being a morning person.

 

“How do you think you did on your finals?” Max says.

 

It’s too early to talk about anything substantial. If anything, she feels like grunt communication might be easier. Victoria shifts in her seat.

 

“I did well enough to pass.”

 

“Not the confident response I was expecting from Miss 3.9 GPA.” Max draws a dick on the window’s condensation.

 

“I just don’t know why we have to do Calculus at a fucking art school.” She huffs.

 

“Ahh, the truth comes out.”

 

“The truth is out there.”

 

“Nerd.” Max says.

 

She wants to squeeze Victoria’s knee, but distracting the driver brings up the drunk driving slideshows in Health Class. It paints images of her own body launched through the windshield and skidding across the pavement, Victoria’s left half crushed against a mangled car door. Blood and glass everywhere.

 

“Wanna go through the Starbucks drive thru?” Victoria says.

 

“Ugh, their breakfast sandwiches are tiny and sad and like twenty bucks.”

 

“I need another coffee and I’m paying anyway.”

 

“Victoria, no need to drop five thousand dollars on breakfast.”

 

“You’re just saying numbers now.”

 

“Baby, McDonalds has breakfast deals.”

 

Victoria signals to enter the Starbucks drive thru. Max fiddles with her camera, trying to get a shot of the sunrise between blocks of grey.

 

“Why are you being so picky about this?” Victoria says.

 

“Starbucks breakfast sandwiches taste like cardboard. I want an Egg McMuffin.”

 

“You know what? We’ll just do both.” 

 

“Both is good.”

 

“You meant to have that gif start playing in my head, didn’t you?”

 

Max pouts. The photo angle isn’t right and a trip to another drive thru will prolong their trip even more. It’s a five hour drive as it is.

 

“Do you ever think about how if we lived in Europe we’d be in different countries than our parents?” Max says.

 

“--Venti Salted Caramel Mocha and a chocolate chip cookie.” Victoria says through the window.

 

She’s holding a finger up to shush Max for a minute.

 

“Please pull up to the next window.” The distorted voice on the menu box says.

 

“I didn’t know Satan was working today.” Max says.

 

Victoria hiccups a laugh.

 

Drink in console and half a cookie in her mouth, Victoria drives across the street to McDonalds.

 

“You should get something with protein, otherwise you’ll get cranky.” Max says.

 

“Ugh, are you and Taylor the same person? She always nags me about this too.”

 

Max turns slowly to look at her girlfriend. Victoria purses her lips.

 

She adds nuggets to their order and Max leans across the console to kiss her cheek. Positive reinforcement makes a happy Victoria.

 

Victoria turns her head to peck a retreating Max on the lips.

 

Breakfast sorted, they’re ready for the five hour drive back to Seattle. Max cues up Daft Punk.

 

“Can we take the old highway and look at scenery?” She says.

 

“It’ll add another hour to our trip and if my ass is sore I want it to be for a fun reason.” Victoria says.

 

Max shoves half an eggwich into her mouth.

 

“But I don’t wanna look at the creepy church billboards.” She whines.

 

“Those are tame compared to some of the homophobic shit I’ve seen in California. The one along this highway is only vaguely threatening.”

 

“God is watching you. So, like, we must never ever be boring.” Max says through a mouthful of potato.

 

“I see someone’s been reading the Chuck Palahniuk book I leant her.” Victoria says.

 

“I’ve been wondering if the Feist song was named after it?” Max says.

 

“Hm?”

 

“The Feist song, Brandy Alexander.” Max cues it up on her phone and plugs the AUX cord into it.

 

“This is so you. The weepiest indie.” Victoria scoffs.

 

“Sorry it doesn’t have synth, bass, or lyrics about sex. I know that’s more your thing.” Max says.

 

“It’s nice. Don’t really want to make my ass clap first thing in the morning.”

 

Max chokes on the last of her sandwich.

  
  


The plan is to leave the car at the Chase Space over the week. It has it’s own lot and security and that means not having to pay for parking. Victoria’s rich, but not that rich. Car locked and alarmed, they gather their things and wait out front.

 

Ryan Caulfield is a hard figure to miss. Tall, bearded, male version of Max wearing an obnoxious blinking Santa hat and waving rapidly. Victoria shrinks back against her bags. She’s going to be seen with this man.

 

She needs to prove herself to this man.

 

He’s more freckle than pale skin and his eyes are the same shade of blue as his daughter’s. The first time she saw him was through her open dorm room door. His shoulders were the width of Max’s doorway, a box under each arm and a booming belly laugh. The girl across the hall who got hair ruffles and kisses from her parents, not an icy text wishing her a good year.

 

She takes his outstretched hand for a firm shake.

 

“You must be Victoria Chase. I’ve heard a lot about you from this one.” He points to Max with his elbow.

 

It’s so odd meeting someone’s parents, because she can hear the shared speech pattern between him and Max. The end their sentences the same, with trailing off in thought.

 

He leads them to the car, insisting on taking the heavy stuff and loading it into the trunk. His Jeep is olive coloured and has a roll bar. It’s quaint in a redneck way that makes her skin crawl.

 

“There’s some hiking gear on the back seat. Sorry, Victoria, let me move that.”

 

Max makes a noise, reaching to assist in the pushing of wool jackets and muddy boots over to one side.  

 

“So, Max says you live in Seattle too.” He says, piling into the front seat.

 

Max tucks in her seat in front of Victoria to allow her more leg room.

 

“Yeah, our house is in Edmonds, but my parents are spending Christmas at our Chateau in Colorado.”

 

Ryan whistles lowly, “So, your parents own this gallery?”

 

“It’s a chain of galleries. We have two in California, one in Oregon, the original here, and we just opened another one in New York.”

 

“Wowzers.” Ryan says.

 

“Oh my god, that’s a genetic thing?” Victoria looks between father and daughter.

 

“Nah, Dad picked it up from listening to me and Chloe bicker on road trips.”

 

A snap of Max’s polaroid has the whole car jumping.

 

“Kiddo, can you not take flash photos when I’m driving. I almost ran over a little old lady.”

 

“Almost isn’t good enough, Dad.”

 

“Victoria, is my kid this morbid when she’s around school?” He makes eye contact with her in the rearview mirror.

 

“She’s worse.”

 

“Fan-tastic. Oh, by the way, your mother asked me to stop by Red Apple to pick up a few things. Do you want anything?”

 

Max shifts in her seat, inspecting the photo in the fading winter light.

 

“We’ll just come in with you.”

 

Victoria paws at the head rest.

 

“You mean buying your own groceries?”

 

“Yes, Victoria, we peasants slave away on tile flooring to pick out our own produce.”

 

Victoria huffs and folds her arms, leg shaking.

 

“Are you excited?”

 

“No.”

 

Maybe a little.

 

“I still can’t believe I’m dating someone rich enough to see a grocery store as foreign soil.” 

 

“I can’t believe I’m dating someone who’s wearing socks that say ‘Fan-Foxing-Tastic’, but we’ve both made allowances in this relationship.” Victoria shoots back.

 

The car pulls into the parking lot. A grocery store is a grocery store. Victoria hides it well, but she’s filled with wide eyed wonder in the produce aisle.

 

Max is grabbing oranges blindly when Victoria slaps her hand.

 

“Hey! What the hell?” Max says.

 

“You’re not even checking if they’re male or female oranges.”

 

“I’m sorry, I should be looking for massive orange dongs?”

 

Victoria flips the orange over to show the bottom. Instead of the tiny hole Max is used to, there’s a bigger hole with a knot at the bottom.

 

“Female orange. Male oranges are the ones with small holes. Female oranges taste better. Did you really not know that? Is that a white people thing?”

 

Max rubs her temple with her middle finger to flip Victoria off.

 

Max hollers at her father across the aisle, “Dad, did you know that female oranges taste better than male oranges?”

 

He wanders over, biceps bulging around his basket. Victoria fixes her eyes elsewhere.

 

“Makes sense. Girls always taste better than boys.”

 

“Ew, Dad.”

 

“You set me up. She set me up.” He shoots those blue laser eyes in Victoria’s direction.

 

Victoria looks between the two, a deer caught in the headlights.

 

“Haha! Hmm... yes?” She says.

 

Ryan looks between them before saying, “Max, orange you going to get anything else?”

 

She closes her eyes slowly to hide rolling them.

 

“Do we have any ice cream at home?”

 

“I think we have some Tillamook in the freezer.”

 

“Yes.” Max hisses the ‘s’ for an additional minute.

 

They go through the checkout and Victoria relaxes among the tabloid magazines and packets of gum. Max yawns and tucks her chin against Victoria’s neck.

 

Then Mariah Carey’s ‘All I Want for Christmas’ starts playing and Max pulls back to yell at the sky.

  
  


Vanessa Caulfield is the missing puzzle piece in the jigsaw of Max. She’s a lithe woman with dark hair and eyes. When she opens her mouth and Max’s voice comes out (albeit older and scratchier), Victoria is taken aback.

 

“You must be Victoria. Max’s mentioned you.” She opens with.

 

Victoria deflates.

 

Max comes by, pushing past Victoria with a bag full of groceries. She greets her mother with a kiss to the corner of her mouth. She puts the bags on the counter before embracing her in a full hug.

 

Over Max’s shoulder, Vanessa gives Victoria the hairy eyeball. 

 

Great. She already has a poor reputation among the Caulfields. Every moment that she’s been an absolute terror to Max goes flashing by her eyes.

 

It takes over a minute.

 

“Victoria, want a cup of tea or coffee?”

 

“Do you have any green tea?” Victoria says.

 

Green tea. Wholesome, healthy, the kind of thing that makes a good first impression. Though, now that it’s out of her mouth, it might be a stereotypical Asian thing for her to do. Well, not stereotypical around Asian-Asians, but around white people.

 

However, she lowers her hackles, Ryan is the only white person in the room.

 

Max hands her a cup of tea and she blinks. Has she been staring at the wall like a complete mess the whole time? Better to daze off while standing than while driving at least. God, that’s such a cliche too. What is this? The beginning of an adventure novel or a porn comic?

 

Why does her brain instantly go there.

 

“I think your friend might need a nap, Kiddo.” Ryan says.

 

“Careful, Girl, you’re gonna catch flies that way.” Vanessa says.

 

Victoria snaps her mouth shut tighter than it was. She sets the cup of tea down and checks her phone to save face. New snaps from Taylor.

 

She gestures Max to look over her shoulder. It’s Dana and Courtney passionately singing Feliz Navidad on what looks like a Greyhound. 

 

The next snap is of Taylor drinking a huge bottle of Coke with the caption: ‘shots shots shot ;) B)’

 

Then a selfie with duck lips.

 

Desperate much?

 

Victoria replies with a cute selfie captioned: ‘bae’s house <3’

 

Taylor opens it but doesn’t respond.

 

The room she’s being given is smaller than her dorm at Blackwell. There’s office supplies on the desk, and calling what she has to sleep on a ‘bed’ is a gross overstatement.

 

“Ah, the cot, hello darkness my old friend.” Max says, dropping one of Victoria’s suitcases on the floor.

 

“I can’t live like this for two weeks!” Victoria’s voice gets shrill.

 

Max blinks at her.

 

“You have to tell your parents that I’m sleeping with you. This is… this is like living in a third world country!”

 

“Victoria, listen.”

 

Victoria’s face is a funny shade of red as she stops her rant. Max holds up a finger and looks around. Aside from the sound of the TV downstairs, she hears nothing.

 

“It’s the world’s smallest violin.” Max says.

 

She leaves the room, shoulders up and heels connecting with the carpeted flooring. Victoria can feel the pissed off stomps from across the house.

 

In a huff, she sits on the springy mattress on stilts. It’s about as comfortable as sleeping on a wooden pallet. Her legs stretch far over the edge. She’ll be able to sleep on her back or side, but the only wiggle room is between her and the wall.

 

“Fuck me.” She says.

 

Victoria groans, covers her face with her hands, and leans back.

 

If she were a different person, she’d be grateful for a cot. She would appreciate generosity and not be looking at hotels in the area. She’d thank the Caulfields.

 

Victoria is Victoria, and she’s checking the transit schedule. The house is seated far enough outside city limits that buses come every half an hour. According to Google Maps (which she has to use in the browser because, fuck you, Apple) it’ll take her two hours to get home. She groans and leans forward.

 

The carpet is cushy underfoot. Max’s bedroom has a blue door with a Dali poster tacked to it. The edges are peeling and worn. Her knock sounds light on the old wood.

 

“Come in.” Max says.

 

Victoria only got a glance at the room when she was hauling her things up. The walls are a paler shade of blue with chunks of yellow star shaped plastic are stuck to the ceiling. There are faded patches on the walls where Max’s posters used to be. The bookshelf by the window is filled with young adult fiction and manga. She picks out the first two issues of Inuyasha and all of the Twilight books.

 

Max is sitting cross legged on her bed, face painted with a broody scowl. Polaroids lay before her in a pile. Victoria puts a hand on the bed, hoping to use the pressure to get Max’s attention.

 

“I’ve been experimenting with expired film on my Spectra. Which is redundant, because all Polaroid brand Spectra film is expired. Anyway, it looks like you have a halo in this one.”

 

Victoria climbs onto the bed with her palms and knees, wrapping around Max from behind to look at the pictures.

 

“My head looks like  a sunburst. The purple junkyard looks cool.”

 

Max snorts, unconsciously putting a hand on Victoria’s thigh. 

 

“Victoria Chase. Photography snob thinks my expired hipster photos look ‘cool’.”

 

“Oh, whatever. Do you want me to whip out thousand dollar words or be succinct?” Victoria says.

 

“I want you to share this bed with me, but my parents don’t think that’s appropriate.” Max shoots back.

 

Victoria groans and covers her face with her hands. She’s rubbing away the flush that’s growing from her face to her neck.

 

“I want that too.” She says.

 

“I’m sorry my house isn’t a five star resort like you’re used to.” Max says.

 

Victoria’s mouth flaps a bit while she works on her next sentence.

 

“At least people live here.” She says.

 

This is probably a twin sized bed since it’s bigger than her dorm bunk, but smaller than the bed she has at home. She falls back against the pillows looking up at the plastic constellation. Max crawls over her thigh to lie next to her. Victoria moves her cheek along the pillow until they’re nose to nose.

 

“Your breath smells like green tea.” Max says.

 

“What does it taste like?” She says back.

 

Victoria isn’t sure who closes the gap between them, but kissing is awkward while lying on your side. Max tilts her head, pushing Victoria back with her mouth.

 

Victoria runs her fingers through Max’s hair. Their legs brush together at the calf, slipping of denim on nylon. 

 

Max bites Victoria’s lower lip and digs her fingers into the meat of Victoria’s hips.

 

The heat is too much. Victoria pulls back. Max chases her lips and Victoria gives her one-two chaste pecks before pulling back.

 

She groans and sits up to roll back her sleeves and rub at her cheeks.

 

“Need to cool down.” She says.

 

Max whines and rolls onto her back.

 

“Right, don’t wanna do the deed with my parents downstairs.” She says more to herself than Victoria.

 

Victoria flops back down and lets Max spoon her side. There’s a sudden rush of cold as her abdomen is exposed and then the velvety warmth of Max’s palm rubbing slow circles on it.

 

“You’re navigating dangerous territory, Max Caulfield.” Victoria says.

 

Her voice is so breathy she feels like she’s overdoing it.

 

Max’s mouth is on her neck.

 

“I can navigate the undiscovered cunt-ry if you can be very quiet.” She says.

 

Victoria’s lips part and she goggles Max.

 

Max, fucking Max Caulfield, with her devilish smirk and the look in her eye that makes Victoria’s insides go molten. She doesn’t trust her tongue to form words. Instead she just nods.

 

The thumb that’s been edging further under the waistband of Victoria’s shorts skates along the seam. Victoria is sucking air into her lungs and releasing it with jagged little pants.

 

Max fumbles with the button and zipper. Her hand slides beneath tights and panties. Her brow is screwed up and she parts her lips the minute her fingers make contact with a line of hair followed by wetness.

 

“Fuck yes.” Max groans.

 

“I’m the one getting played with here, and you’re jizzing your pants.” Victoria scoffs quietly.

 

“You don’t understand how often I’ve thought about doing this.” Max says.

 

“Oh? What was the first time?”

 

Because the raspy quality of Max’s voice is making her wet enough to soak through to her tights, and the thought of Max touching herself while thinking of her makes her wet enough to… something else.

 

“PE class. You tripped me and spent the whole class standing around barely participating. Then when I hit you with a dodgeball to get your attention you started crying and throwing every ball you could at me.”

 

Victoria squints up at her, “How the fuck did that turn you on?”

 

“I dunno. Something about wanting to teach you a lesson got mixed up with seeing you in your gym shorts.”

 

“You like my gym shorts?”

 

Max groans and pushes her hand further.

 

Victoria bites the inside of her cheek to hold back a moan. Max’s fingers wiggle around, little explorers searching for the lost treasure of pleasure.

 

“Higher.” Victoria says.

 

Max’s index and middle fingers glide through wetness up the slit to that little notch at the top.

 

“Back and forth.” Victoria says.

 

Max follows instructions. Victoria moves her hips in time with the motion. They connect at the mouths, a rhythmless swapping of spit.

 

She isn’t close to coming, but Max is grunting and moving the angle of her wrist. Victoria tries crossing her legs to help the angle. Max gets up on one elbow and tries stretching her fingers. She huffs.

 

“This is hard to do mirrored and through two layers of clothing.” She says.

 

“We could take off a few layers.” Victoria says.

 

But the guilty look that passes over Max’s face makes her insides cool. The wetness between her legs and Max’s fingers no longer feels slick and exciting, it just feels uncomfortably wet.

 

Max sighs and slips her hand out of Victoria’s underwear and sticks them in her mouth. Victoria makes a little choked noise.

 

“Sorry, should I put it back?” Max says.

 

Victoria goes cross eyed. She’s on the edge between arousal and calm. Max sucking her come off her fingers is enough to light that fire in her belly again, but the moment is gone.

 

“No. If you did your parents would probably walk in.” Victoria says.

 

“Sorry I couldn’t get you off.” Max says.

 

She pushes her hair behind her ears and dips her neck, looking at the duvet.

 

Victoria kisses her with comically pursed lips.

 

“Next time.”

 

Max rubs her face and gets up to wash her hands.

 

Victoria waits for her heartrate to return to a normal pace. She hears the creak-thump of Max descending the stairs, followed by the low murmuring of all three Caulfields. 

 

There’s a raised voice followed by the door opening loudly and swinging closed. Victoria darts up and takes her steps one at a time to minimize noise.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  


She keeps pressed against the staircase listening to the voices below. Her shadow is just out of view.

 

“Well, they live in dorms, Van. A lot of opportunity there.”

 

“What they do at school is not something I want to know about. Under our roof there are rules. If they share a room I want an open door.”

 

Victoria huffs, why do they gotta do her like that? What did she do to deserve this twatswatting?

 

A brief montage of bullying passes her eyes. She silently thanks herself for the reminder. Sarcasm doesn’t work when it’s directed at one’s self.

 

Maybe she should just stay in her family’s empty mansion for the holidays? She can throw a house party. Except, the last time she threw one, a vase got smashes and her parents still haven’t forgiven her.

 

A hand taps her shoulder and Victoria jumps silently. Max frowns at her and pushes past on her way downstairs.

 

“Can Victoria stay in my room instead? The office makes her sneeze.”

 

“Absolutely not.” Vanessa is clearly the hardass parent.

 

Victoria begins to rub harsh circles into her eyes and sniff loudly. Then she stares up at the light and lets the water trickle down from her eyes. She can’t imitate the puffiness that Courtney gets around cats, but the rest of the look is down.

 

“Could it lead to a respiratory infection? Why didn’t you tell us she had allergies sooner?” Ryan says.

 

Victoria takes this as her cue. She descends the stairs slowly and with a lot of sniffling.

 

“I’m sorry,” She says talking through her nose, “I didn’t know I had them. My parents are like anal retentive about everything being new and tidy. I’ve never had much exposure to dust.”

 

A guilty look crosses the Caulfields’ faces. Max rubs her elbow.

 

“I think it’s the cot.” She says.

 

Victoria wipes her nose.

 

Ryan looks between her and Vanessa, having a wordless conversation with his wife.

 

“Fine. Open door though. And I don’t mean just a crack. I mean the door is all the way open.” Vanessa says.

 

Victoria hides her smile by rubbing the corner of her eye with the heel of her palm. 

 

Vanessa sighs, “And Victoria, I’m sorry about the cot being so dusty. It’s been in the attic for ages.”

 

“It’s okay. I appreciate the thought.” Victoria says.

 

“Right. Dinner’s ready.” Ryan says, clapping his hands and making everyone else jump.

 

Dinner is a chicken curry filled with chunks of apple and raisins. The naan is from an Indian restaurant down the road. Now the whole house smells like ghee, creamy tomatoes, and cumin.

  
  
  
  


“Do you wanna build a snowman?” Max whispers.

 

Victoria sits up, turns around to grab her pillow, and covers Max’s face with it. 

 

“It doesn’t have to be a snowman.”

 

Victoria removes the pillow and replaces it with her mouth, kissing Max soundly to keep her from reciting any more lyrics.

 

Max turns her head, disengaging from the kiss.

 

“I mean it, we can build a robot or maybe a jet pack.”

 

Victoria chuckles, leaning in to kiss her again when they hear a cleared throat from the doorway.

 

“Girls, we’re going out to pick a tree. Would you like to come along?”

 

Translation being, get up, we’re getting a tree.

 

Max watches a look of annoyance stick on Victoria’s face. She’s got that pinch between her eyebrows and is rolling a barb around on her tongue, lips pursed to keep it in.

 

“We’ll be right up, Mom.” Max sits up to catch her mother’s eye.

 

Victoria rolls off of her and throws back the covers. Vanessa disappears from the door and down the stairs.

 

Victoria hisses, “Do we really need the open door?”

 

“It’s my parents’ house, and I don’t think I’d be comfortable with my daughter making whoopee with her girlfriend either.”

 

“Making whoopee? Did you learn Sex Ed from The Sims?” Victoria testily picks out a blouse.

 

“That’s Woohoo, Ass. Making Whoopee is old timey slang for it.” Max shucks off her shorts.

 

Victoria looks over her shoulder as Max bends over to pulls her jeans over her butt. She closes her eyes to burn the image into her brain for the rest of the day.

 

“I swear to God, I feel like I’m dating a Time Traveler. One of these days you’re going to try to burn an automatic door at the stake for being a witch or something.”

 

Max laughs, “That’s the best compliment you’ve ever paid me.”

 

“Excuse me?! I once told you that your boobs are amazing and I totally--”

 

“HI DAD.” Max says.

 

Ryan has a hand over his eyes and his lips folded as he leans into the room to close the door.

 

“We’re leaving in five.” He says through the door.

 

“We’ll be ready.”

 

Max whips a bundle of socks at Victoria. Victoria yelps, catches them, and holds the bundle like a pointing stick while she hisses at Max.

 

“How is me complimenting your boobs and saying I’d use nudes of you as my wallpaper a worse compliment than calling you a vintage fucknugget?”

 

Max drops the ends of her hoodie zipper to stride around the bed. She bumps into Victoria with her toes and drags her down for a hard kiss.

 

“You’re fun to annoy.” She says, “Now finish getting dressed.”

 

Victoria’s eyes have rolled back into her head and her knees have sagged to meet each other in the middle. Max does this thing with dry lips and a soft tongue that makes her ascend to another plane of existence.

 

“I’m gonna go eat a muffin. See you downstairs.” Max says.

 

“Wish you would eat mine.” Victoria mutters after she’s left.

 

Ryan and Vanessa are waiting in knit Christmas sweaters. They’re matching. Ryan’s is green, Vanessa’s is red. Both have white cottages and trees as the pattern. Max is unzipping her hoodie to replace it with a blue reindeer sweater. Victoria has to be seen in public with these dorks.

 

Ryan smiles behind his coffee cup. Vanessa holds up a white reindeer sweater.

 

“It’s a family tradition. Now you two can be a matched set.”

 

Max shoots her a thumbs up, holding her cup of coffee to her mouth.

 

Victoria smiles at Ryan and Vanessa, but shoots Max ‘that look’. Her smile stays wide, predatory, and fake as the hideous sweater hides Victoria’s stylish cashmere. 

 

“I love it.” She says.

 

The sweater has a distinctive smell. Cloves, pine, something warm.

 

“My mom knit it.” Ryan says, “She makes us new ones every year. I told her that Max’s new girlfriend would be staying with us.”

 

“Oh.” Victoria says.

 

She wraps her arms around her torso. Her heart sinks into her stomach. Some things are worth more than money can buy. Christ, why is she such an asshole?

 

Max elbows her, holding out a muffin. Victoria smiles and takes it from her.

 

“Let’s go get a tree!” Vanessa says, putting her galoshes on.

 

“I guess Mom’s been pine-ing for one for awhile.” Max says with a tiny smirk.

 

Vanessa and Victoria scoff.

 

“I dunno, I think the green will spruce the place up a bit.” Ryan says.

 

They scoff again. Victoria shakes her head, stuffing the muffin into her mouth as she pulls on her coat and boots.

  
  


The day is December 23 and Victoria is at a loss. Ryan and Max are in the living room watching one of those Rankin Bass puppet Christmas movies and decorating the tree. Victoria creeps into the kitchen to find Vanessa Caulfield stringing leather cord through softer leather strips. One finished moccasin sits on the table.

 

“Hey Vanessa. Can I ask for your help with something?”

 

“Shoot.” She says.

 

Her dark eyes are still fixed on feeding the needle along the pattern. Max gets the same intense look when she’s developing photos. Except, Vanessa is illuminated by white light, not red.

 

Victoria puts both hands, palm down on the table to get eye level with the shorter woman.

 

“I have no idea what to get Max for Christmas.”

 

“Have you tried Polaroid film? Her new Spectra, bless the Price’s hearts, only takes a discontinued film. It’s around three dollars per photo.”

 

Victoria worries her lip, “I always buy her camera supplies. I want to get a less practical gift.”

 

“You’re looking for sentimental.”

 

“Exactly.”

 

Vanessa moves her sewing supplies, revealing a crumpled list with items crossed off it. She slides it across the table to Victoria. Victoria uses a nail to catch it and lift it to eye level. She smiles at the little characters drawn around the edges. That’s so Max.

 

Max’s Awesome XMas List

  * Polaroid Film
  * Oven mitts shaped like bear hands
  * Animal Crossing New Leaf
  * The Stand by Stephen King
  * Colorful socks
  * Psychedelic posters
  * Tardis mug
  * New pencil case
  * iTunes giftcards?



 

“We got her socks, the video game, and some posters. And we’re working on getting her some concert tickets to that computer command band she listens to.”

 

Victoria squints at the list, then at Vanessa, thinking.

 

“Daft Punk?” She says.

 

“That’s not it. Alt something.” Vanessa bites her lip.

 

“Ohhhhh… Alt J.” 

 

Victoria folds the list into neat, even creased squares and tucks it into her pocket.

 

“Could you give me a ride to my house? I wanna go shopping downtown and I need my parents’ car for that.”

 

“I could just give you a ride downtown and pick you up when you’re done.” Vanessa says.

 

“But, you’re in the middle of something.” Victoria says.

 

She plucks at her sweater. Vanessa stands up so she’s closer to eye level with Victoria.

 

“I need to pick up cranberry sauce anyway. We’ll make a trip out of it. I’ll just go and tell Max and Ry.”

 

Victoria lets her chest rise and fall rapidly. She takes a deep breath. Following silently, keeping her hands to herself and waiting for something to be offered. Rare shopping trips with her parents. It was always stuffy starched restaurants with candle light and tiny portions. She just wanted McDonalds. And if she touched the wrong fork, well… she never did at least.

 

“Ready to rock and roll?” Vanessa returns, shrugging on her rain coat.

 

“Are you sure about this?” Victoria says.

 

“Yeah, I told Max she can’t come because I’m gonna tell you my hour long joke and she’ll just spoil the punchline.”

 

“Okay?” Victoria raises her eyebrows.

 

“Holy shit, a talking dog.” Max says, doing the slipper shuffle in.

 

“My own daughter. You’re grounded, young lady.” Vanessa says.

 

“So, you two are gonna totally not buy Christmas presents for me and Dad, right?” Max says.

 

Victoria snorts, folding her arms, “Excuse me? I’ve had your presents bought and wrapped for weeks.”

 

“You forget, we share a room.” Max cocks her hip and leans it against the counter.

 

She looks so hot when she’s smug.

 

Victoria presses her into the counter for a kiss. Vanessa’s standing by the door, waiting, so she keeps it short and hard. Closed dry lips pressing against each other. Victoria leaves a lipstick stain. The shade goes well with the burgundy shadows of Max’s skin.

 

“Be back later.”

 

She tugs her goose down on, following Vanessa to the truck. They idle, sitting in silence while waiting for the Jeep to warm up. Victoria keeps her hands in her pockets while Vanessa takes out a CD and replaces it with Christmas music.

 

Mariah Carey begins crooning.

 

“Max hates this song.” She says, “I wanted to clear the air with you anyway. I don’t hate you or want you to feel unwelcome in the house.”

 

Victoria presses into the seat, voice caught in her throat. 

 

“I just don’t feel comfortable with my teenage daughter having sex in her childhood bed. While I’m downstairs.” Vanessa says.

 

If there’s an eject button somewhere on the seat she prays she can find it. Her nails bite into pleather and search for something, anything. Maybe if she chews through her own leg she can escape.

 

“Now that’s out of the way, let’s agree to never speak of it again?” Vanessa says.

 

Victoria nods hard, turning up the volume of Christmas pop hits.

 

Vanessa parks on the street at the base of a hill. Wind cuts through their clothes, making it even colder. Victoria’s teeth chatter. She wraps her arms around her waist, grateful for the thick wool of her ugly sweater.

 

She must look like a misshapen bird, all top heavy with thick tights and boots like legs poking out under feathers. She gathers her poof and barge against the wind to enter the store Vanessa pointed her in the direction of.

 

The door bounces in the draft as she enters. The store is exactly Max’s brand of ‘I’m so quirky’, so much so that it makes her teeth itch. The man behind the counter is wearing a light up bowtie and Christmas suspenders. She wants to shove him into the nearest locker. Her lip curls into a snarl as she sees some tweens wearing backpacks literally coated in fandom pins giggling over licensed Harry Potter scarves.

 

Breathe in, breathe out.

 

She inspects the list. Right. Bear paw oven mitts. She moves past shelves of themed Monopoly towards the books shaped like bacon that are filled with bacon recipes. Jesus, we get it. Bacon.

 

There’s a series of hooks and pegs next to the bookshelf. There lie a number of novelty cooking utensils and oven mitts. Mitts with tiny Mitt Romney heads, mitts covered in bacon(fuck off), mitts with swirls of Van Gogh’s Starry Night. The bear paw ones, as specified, have toe pads made out of a soft pleather probably not good for deflecting heat. She doesn’t bother asking or judging(much). 

 

With a huff, she storms off to the counter. In doing so, she sends a display of paper dolls sliding to the floor. Victoria leaves the pile there, beyond done with this store and its avant garde bullshit. Besides, this is what the employees get paid to do.

 

On her way to the counter she spots a TARDIS mug. She holds it in one hand and the bear mitts in the other.

 

The tweens are ahead of her in line. They’re waffling over which set of stockings they want at the register. Why didn’t they make this fucking decision before purchasing? Her eyes roll so hard she has to close her eyes.

 

They settle for the cat ones. Stop the presses.

 

Victoria all but slams her purchases onto the counter.

 

The hipster queefbucket has the audacity to sigh at her. She inspects her nail beds. He starts packing them into a paper bag.

 

“Excuse me!? I need a plastic bag. It’s raining outside, we live in Seattle.” She says in her slowest, most patronizing tone.

 

“The store likes to reduce our carbon footprint by using biodegradable packaging.” He says with a polite but strained smile.

 

Victoria snorts, “Then use a biodegradable soy plastic, because I am not paying to have my girlfriend’s presents to get ruined by soggy paper mess.”

 

“Then maybe you should have brought your own bag, Miss.” He says.

 

Victoria’s mouth is caught in a stunned ‘O’, lip curling.

 

“I’d like to speak to your manager.”

 

Mr. Glasses-and-Bowtie-Fuck-You-Josh leaves the counter to go to the back. The sound of three different sighs from behind her alerts her to the other people waiting to check out.

 

She twists around, leveling the group of college aged women with her coldest stare.

 

“I’m sorry. Did you have a problem.”

 

Nothing makes her feel more powerful than the sight of older women shrinking under her gaze. Something roiling and nasty settles in her chest. She smirks at the sight of the manager.

 

Said manager is a middle aged woman with a mole on her lip. She doesn’t say anything to Victoria, just pulls out a plastic Trader Joes grocery bag, fluffs it, and puts Victoria’s purchases into it.

 

“Cash or card?” She says.

 

“Credit.” Victoria grinds out.

 

Fucking Hipster Josh is hiding his smirk in a sip of his coffee.

 

“Receipt?” The manager says.

 

“A gift receipt, please.” Victoria says.

 

She pauses, bag in hand, before leaving.

 

“Your bowtie is stupid.” She says to Josh.

 

Then she turns on heel to exit the store. Only, the wind is pushing on the door, so opening it sends it towards her with force. She shrieks.

 

Her bag swings in the wind, but Max’s gifts are unharmed. She bumps into Vanessa on the sidewalk.

 

“You aren’t opposed to seafood, right?” Vanessa says.

 

Victoria shakes her head, stuffing her hands into her jacket pockets and letting the bag dangle around her wrist.

 

She likes watching Vanessa pick out groceries. Her fingers are short and nimble. She tests the firmness of fruit with the barest touch. She’ll tuck a lock of brown-black hair behind an ear, silver ring flashing on her thumb.

 

Vanessa selects four crabs for dinner. Red shells and spiritedly trying to flee the tank. Victoria avoids making eye contact with them in the cooler. Guilt fills her. Food is always just prepared when she eats it. Killing to eat seems so… foreign. 

 

Her Vietnamese and Chinese relatives would probably mock her for this. Such Western sensibilities. 

 

“Can we take a detour to my parents’ house? I’d like to pick up a few things?” Victoria says.

 

“Sure thing.” Vanessa says.

 

Victoria turns the directions on on her phone.

 

“So, you got into Blackwell for photography?” Vanessa says.

 

Victoria sighs through her teeth, preening is what she usually does in situations, but Vanessa has that same easy calm that invites sincerity that Max does.

 

“I got in because I have money and my best friend, Nathan, practically owns the school.” 

 

“Oh. That’s cool.”

 

“Mmhm.”

 

They travel past displays of Christmas lights. Some house have elaborate displays, plastic snowmen riding tractors or animatronic polar bears. Other houses have colourful lights. 

 

The bigger the houses get the smaller the displays become. Victoria recognizes the houses through the coloured blurs on the window. Most were built in the past twenty years. Modern monstrosities with more windows than walls.

 

“It’s the third driveway on the left.” Victoria says.

 

Vanessa makes a disbelieving noise, but pulls in.

 

She gets out of the car to stare up at the house.

 

“You live here?”

 

“Yeah, wanna come in?”

 

Vanessa gawks and nods.

 

The lights turn on automatically when she opens the door. It’s cold, making the tile flooring in the foyer feel like ice.

 

Victoria curls her toes under her feet and slides across the floor to the stairs leading up to the rest of the house.

 

Vanessa is paused in the foyer, unzipping her boots and still giving the house wide eyes.

 

“You live here?” She says.

 

“Hardly, but my parents own it.” Victoria sticks her head in the fridge. There’s still half a cake.

 

“Okay, you’ve impressed me. I would have lied about my parents being home and spent the holiday season cooped up in an empty mansion with my highschool honey. Shit, I would have got Risky Business up in here.” Vanessa is gripping one arm while observing the high ceilings of the kitchen.

 

“You would have what?” Victoria puts the cake on the counter.

 

“Tom Cruise movie… it’s a dated reference thing… I’m old.”

 

Victoria offers Vanessa a fork. They pick away at the log of cake.

 

“What did you need to pick up here?” Vanessa says.

 

“Some clothes, and the film for Max got--infuriatingly-- shipped here instead of to school.”

 

“No dental dams?” Vanessa says.

 

Victoria scowls at the feeling of her very visible ears going red. She chooses to say nothing and instead grabs another bite of cake.

 

“Anyway, I’m going to go grab them. Feel free to make yourself at home.”

 

Her first stop is her mother’s office. There’s some photos she needs to grab. Originals of her own, framed and matted, hanging below eye level. Bare minimum effort attempt at pride in her accomplishments.

 

She uses her mother’s expensive paper cutter to get a crisp line on the wrapping paper she’s measured to fit the frames. Gift giving isn’t so much the occasion in this house as gift wrapping is. The zen art of a perfectly symmetrical wrapping job. She finishes with black velvet ribbon and carries the two photos under her arms as she ascends the stairs to her own room.

 

It’s not as she left it. Her remaining possessions have been boxed and shelved, leaving the room colder and emptier than before. It’s not her room. Never was really.

 

The package of film is in the centre of the bed and otherwise untouched. Victoria pockets it into her coat and inspects the stack of boxes in the closet. She takes down the one marked ‘Clothing - Blouses’ and pulls out a few fashion neutral garments. Not offensive, but not trendy enough to bring to school. She sandwiches the wrapped photographs between the blouses. 

 

Victoria grabs the box labelled ‘Clothing - Assorted’ to grab some socks because she didn’t pack enough for the week and her feet are so cold all the time. She loads all of this in an old gym bag and heads downstairs.

 

Vanessa jumps as if spooked when Victoria arrives quietly.

 

“Do you wanna see the back yard?” Victoria says.

 

“Sure!” She sounds shrill and overeager.

 

Victoria leads her to the back patio door and out onto the deck. It’s custom hardwood housing a jacuzzi. It’s fenced in by a glass wall and past that is ocean view.

 

“Wow. Holy crap. Why didn’t you invite Max here for Christmas?” Vanessa says, leaning on the railing to look at the washed out sunset.

 

“Unsupervised parties at mansions are overrated. We’d just end up drinking wine and watching old movies, and we could do that at the dorms.”

 

Vanessa scrutinizes her, lips pursed and glossy eyes scrunched up. She reaches slowly to ruffle Victoria’s head.

 

“You’re a good kid. You don’t need to hide it.”

 

“I have a reputation to uphold.”

  
  


Tucked against Max’s side, Victoria takes a deep breath of her neck. The lights are dim and everything is lit either by the fire or LED bulbs.

 

“I can’t believe you’ve never seen It’s A Wonderful Life.” Max says for like the fiftieth time.

 

“Yes, yes, rub in your hipster cred.”

 

The movie is black and white of course. She cringes, there are galaxies that are supposed to represent God and angels. She blows out a quiet breath.

 

“Huh, I totally forgot how jarring this framing device must be for first time viewers.” Ryan says.

 

Victoria lowers the light on her phone and opens up Instagram.

 

She’s crying. She’s fucking crying at this old, cheesy, sentimental Christmas movie. She blinks away some fat tears and notices Max wiping glossy cheeks. God, she’s so pretty when she’s crying.

 

Is that why she tries to make her cry? Victoria frowns and makes a mental note to visit that later.

 

Vanessa looks at the three of them, with a faux army sergeant voice, she says, “Weak!”

 

Ryan wipes at his eyes, “It’s not our fault you’re cold and dead inside.”

 

“You knew what you were getting into when you married a robot.” Vanessa says.

 

“It’ll come for you, Mom. Just you wait for menopause, I have a few boxes of film saved for it.”

 

“It’s the first time for me. I don’t know why they’re crying.” Victoria says.

 

She punctuates it with a loud sniffle and wiping her dripping nose on the back of her hand instead of her ugly sweater. Max chuckles and hands her a box of tissues, taking on to dab at her own eyes.

 

“And George wouldn’t be in financial trouble much longer. It’s just after the war and he’s invested in a housing market that’s about to explode. His kids are pre-boomer, so they have a head start. The Baileys would probably be a known name for representing the American Dream realized. I bet Tommy Bailey became a Senator.”

 

“Dad, are you writing It’s a Wonderful Life fanfiction?” Max says.

 

Ryan frowns, “I didn’t mention anything about gay porn.”

 

“Not all fanfiction is gay porn.” Victoria says.

 

“Cracked.com has lied to me.” Ryan says.

 

Max leans in to whisper to Victoria, “All of your fanfiction is gay porn.”

 

Victoria elbows her.

 

Vanessa checks the TV Guide, “Looks like there’s another half an hour left of A Christmas Carol.”

 

Ryan covers his mouth in a yawn, “It’s midnight, Ness. Pretty sure Santa will be stopping by soon.”

 

Victoria snorts.

 

“Come on, Scrooge. Let’s pack it in.” Max stands up, tugging Victoria up with her.

 

Victoria follows Max upstairs.

 

“My toes are cold.” Victoria says.

 

“Take a shower. I don’t want your cold toes trying to warm up in my buttcrack like they were last night.”

 

Victoria mutters on her way to the shower. 

 

Max hangs her sweater on the back of her computer chair. It slides off to the floor with a thump. Max stares for a moment, then leaves it. It’s about 37 degrees, but that counts as shorts weather. She goes for a long sleeved T-Shirt that says ‘Talk Nerdy to Me’ to compensate.

 

She sits in bed scrolling through aesthetic blogs while waiting for Victoria to get out of the shower. 

 

How many pictures of girls eating in bathtubs can she reblog? All of them. Light sculptures, pictures of cherry trees in bloom, black light skating while covered in highlighter chemicals, all reblogged.

 

Victoria is patting her hair dry and smelling like three different chemical flowers. Her phone in hand, she looks up at Max and says,

 

“You have such a hipster blog.”

 

“Are you looking at your dashboard or my blog specifically? Because you reblogged like half of those.” Max fires back.

 

Victoria scrunches her face up, then relaxes it.

 

“Yeah, well I guess it would be hard to date someone with terrible taste in everything,” She eyes Max’s choice in pyjamas, “Not just clothes.”

 

“You know that I can send you back to the cot, right?”

 

Victoria drops her towel. Max makes a strangled noise and looks at the open door. Her parents’ shadows are visible, making a puppet show of their actions downstairs.

 

A smirk is plastered to Victoria’s face while she dresses in a matching black silk set. Max sees the way her hands shake on each garment while giving off the air of nonchalance.

 

She crawls under the covers, sitting a careful distance from Max.

 

“Ugh, you left the light on.” Max groans, flipping up the covers to get out of bed.

 

The light and noise from downstairs still present, they lie side by side with their eyes on the glowing constellation on the ceiling.

 

“I wish Christmas felt more like Christmas.” Max says.

 

“Oh my god, I know right?” Victoria says.

 

They’re stage whispering like at a sleepover.

 

“Dad says it gets like that again when you have kids. Only then you get to play Santa Claus.”

 

“My mom once hired a guy to play Santa Claus at one of the charity events at the gallery. His costume was beautiful, period appropriate to match the art on display. Blue velvet costume with stars embroidered. He wasn’t a drunk or anything, in fact he was the husband of one of the artists.”

 

Victoria rolls onto her side to face Max. She can see the shadow of a smile.

 

“Oh no.”

 

“They had an open marriage that everyone knew about. So, the wife--I think her name was Genevieve--was banging her artist at the time. But, what she didn’t know is that her artist had crabs, crabs which she passed on to her husband, who passed them to my parents a whole bunch of their friends at this Christmas party.”

 

Max opens her mouth in horror, “They were banging Santa at the party?”

 

“It was one of those parties where the kids got sent downstairs to watch Santa Buddies Save Christmas or whatever. I found out because like a week later, after I had broken my antique Super 8--”

 

Max chokes and flips Victoria off.

 

“--for the record, terrible present for an eight year old. Anyway, I was helping out at the gallery to ‘pay off my debt’, Merry Christmas to me, and overheard my mom talking about a crabs break out at the party and that it was ‘stupid sexy Santa’s’ fault.”

 

“You’re joking. You have to be joking.”

 

Victoria raises her voice, “No joke! Okay, my eight year old brain got really excited at that sentence, which now sounds like a word salad. Remember, I was watching golden retrievers save Christmas that night. So, my mind went to--”

 

Max joins her, “Santa freeing the crabs to save Christmas and ruining the art show.”

 

Victoria nods, Max covers her mouth with both hands to muffle a laugh-scream.

 

“You can’t make this shit up.” Victoria says.

 

“Holy shit.”

 

Victoria flips onto her back.

 

“So, that was a normal Christmas for you?” Max rubs her face.

 

“That was one of my better Christmases.”

 

“Which is your best Christmas?” Max says.

 

“This one, duh.”

 

“Awww.”

 

Max spoons Victoria’s side.

 

“But, if anyone asks, it was the Christmas spent in a New York penthouse watching snow fall while drinking champagne and listening to Jimmy Kimmel tell jokes.”

 

“Babe, if you’re gonna make something up pick an actually funny show host.”

  
  


Max awakens with a groan to having a stocking whipped at hers and Victoria’s torsos.

 

She looks up just in time to see her dad wearing a Santa hat and cackling as he runs downstairs.

 

Victoria is pawing at the air and squinting.

 

“What the fuck?” She says.

 

Max takes out her retainer to respond. She puts it back in its case.

 

“Dad likes stocking his prey.”

 

Victoria blinks then scoffs.

 

“It’s way too early for this pun bullshit.”

 

Max sits up and drags the stuffed stocking forward. There are candy canes and Christmas decorations dangling out of the top. One of the decorations has a reindeer and says ‘Max 2013’. The other has a snowman and says ‘Victoria 2013’.

 

“Look. You have a tree ornament.” Max says.

 

Victoria takes it from her to squint at. A fat tear rolls down her cheek.

 

“Aww.” Max says.

 

“Shut up,” Victoria says in a tight voice, “My eyes are just tearing up because I’m tired.”

 

Other contents of the stocking include matching koosh balls, Lego, disposable cameras, chocolate oranges, toothbrushes, and socks.

 

“I fucking love these things.” Max says, cracking open her chocolate orange.

 

“You can have mine.” Victoria says.

 

She’s pulling on her new socks so she misses Max’s scandalized face.

 

“I don’t like chocolate oranges.”

 

“What is wrong with you?”

 

“Well, I dislike chocolate and orange together and I date hobbits, so that’s two things.”

 

Max makes a series of scoffs not unlike Victoria’s signature outrage. 

 

“I’m sorry, you like lemon Starburst, but don’t like Terry’s Chocolate Orange?” Max says.

 

“I know it’s difficult for your hipster brain to comprehend, but not all humans have the same tastes, Maxine.”

 

“Breaking out the full name? Alright, I’m taking my mini Lego and going downstairs.” Max says.

 

Victoria whines and grabs her, rolling over to pull her into the blanket burrito. Max doesn’t struggle instead she tangles their legs together. 

 

They brush their cheeks together in a nuzzle. 

 

“You have morning breath.” Max says.

 

Victoria folds her lips and jerks her head away.

 

“Guess I better get up and brush my teeth.” She says, dodging a kiss from Max.

 

“My breath smells like chocolate and oranges.” Max says.

 

Victoria huffs and holds her middle finger up on her way out to the bathroom.

 

Max takes the opportunity to slide off the bed and duck to pull out two wrapped gifts. She tugs her Christmas sweater over her head and yawns, being a mismatched kind of Max on her way downstairs.

 

Her dad’s head is a beacon of flashing lights. Her mom is curled up on the couch like a cat, looking with pride at the hoard of gifts beneath the tree.

 

“Coffee?” Vanessa points to the pot on the table.

 

“Yes please.” 

 

Max sits down and fills up two cups. In her own, black and sweet. Victoria likes hers milky-sweet. It’s all those Starbucks drinks she chugs.

 

Victoria comes down the stairs with the grace of a muppet. She’s wearing her own ugly sweater and carrying a gift bag. She plunks the gift on the coffee table and sits between Max and Vanessa. Max immediately puts her feet in Victoria’s lap. It gets her a tired and minty smile.

 

“Alright, let’s get this party started!” Ryan says.

 

Victoria takes a selfie of her and Max with Vanessa photobombing in a Nixon pose.

 

“Whose gift should I open first?” Max says.

 

She blinks and there’s the gift bag on her lap and Victoria pretending to look interested in her phone. She laughs and presses a kiss to her cheek.

 

“I wonder what this could be.” She says while shaking the bag.

 

The cup makes a heavy noise and Max winces, holding it steady. Victoria lowers the hackles raised by worry.

 

“Aww, how did you know?” Max says unwrapping the cup and the oven mitts.

 

“I just know you so well.” Victoria says.

 

She ignores the snickering from Vanessa and keeps a straight face. That is, until Max puts on the bear gloves and says,

 

“Nya.”

 

“What are you doing?”

 

“I’m anime.”

 

“What anime?”

 

“Yuri Kuma Arashi.”

 

Victoria opens her mouth to object about everything when a soft parcel hits her on the side of the head. Ryan sports a childish guilty expression while pointing to Vanessa. Who’s sitting opposite of where the package hit, and yawning.

 

Victoria purses her lips as she unwraps the parcel. It’s a pair of Starry Night inspired stockings from the same quirky store she got Max’s gifts at. There’s some kind of poetic justice and irony here, but she appreciates the gift. They’d actually go well with a blue blouse she owns.

 

“Thanks so much!”

 

Ryan and Vanessa are pleasantly surprised by the framed photos. Victoria rests her arms above her head instead of tenting her fingers in front of her face like her inner weeb wants her to. It’s the perfect ‘fuck you’ to her parents while being polite to Max’s. Her mother would be horrified, but too polite to ask for them back.

 

Ultimately, it might poison the well between their families, but petty victories are what she lives for.

 

After unwrapping, she and Max doze in front of the TV while Rankin Bass Christmas cartoons play on cable.

 

“Did this feel like Christmas to you?” Max says.

 

“Kinda. I think movies and TV warp our expectations of what Christmas should feel like.” Victoria says.

 

“Huh. Yeah. I feel that. It’s like this poetic cartoony ideal. I always picture Christmas as having like a beautiful purple sky and white snow, maybe not talking snowmen, but at least Santa Claus flying across the sky.”

 

“No winter warlocks?” Victoria gestures towards the TV.

 

“Nuh uh.” Max burrows her head into Victoria’s neck.

 

“I still can’t believe you bought me a fucking copy of Final Fantasy The Spirits Within for Christmas.”

 

“We’re watching it when we get back. And I also got you those inks you’ve been thirsting over. I didn’t only get you one of the greatest sci-fis of all time.”

  
  
  


The rest of the Christmas break goes by as a blur. Dinner with Max’s grandparents is a weird, but ultimately pleasant affair. They hold hands under the table, wearing their itchy sweaters despite the warmth of the indoors. 

  
  
  


“You sure you cats don’t want to stay for New Years? We might even stay up past ten if you’re here.” Ryan says over breakfast the morning of the thirtieth. 

 

Max and Victoria exchange a glance.

 

“Class starts on the seventh and I haven’t done any of my readings.” Max says.

 

“The Vortex Club throws a New Year's bash for students at school and I’m on the board.” Victoria says, applying her lip gloss.

 

She’s applying war paint this time. No matte shades or beeswax lip gloss. Her Christmas tights match the palette of her cardigan and short short ensemble. Vanessa was kind enough to give her another ride downtown for some Boxing Day sales. Max used her hand like a lifeline through the crowds.

 

“This vacation’s nice, but I’m tired of being here.” Max says.

 

Victoria startles at the brutal honesty before she remembers the cause.

 

Vanessa laughs and reaches across the table to grab more sugar for her coffee.

 

“Thank god, I can finally start airing the teenager smell from the house.”

 

“We might need to get a priest for help with that Ness.” Ryan says.

 

“Thank you so much for having me and being such gracious hosts.” Victoria says so quickly she messes up her eyeliner.

 

She clucks in annoyance and gets up to fix it. On her way out she hears Max explaining their schedule to her parents.

 

* * *

 

The drive back to Arcadia is done in exhausted silence. Max has her headphones in and her phone up in front of her face.

 

She makes the occasional glance at Victoria, but she seems content to drive with her own music playing.

 

Max scrolls through Instagram. Taylor took a lot of family photos and kissy selfies. Dana has a few snowy aesthetic photos and one of a niece in a onesie. Kate uploaded a painting of her bunny. 

 

She uploads a few photos she took while out with Victoria and during Christmas. Her favourite is one of Victoria curled up in a chair with her new socks showing. Max applies a Valencia filter to the picture before posting ‘Xmas with the bae <3’.

 

Max jumps as a finger brushes her knee. She pops out her earbud and looks up at Victoria.

 

“I need to stretch my legs. Do you wanna drive for the last stretch?”

 

“You’re letting me drive?” Max says.

 

“Unless you think you’re gonna crash us into the ocean, I think I can trust you to make the half hour back to Blackwell.”

 

“We only said goodbye with words…” Max sings.

 

Victoria blinks at her, then shakes her head.

 

“Amy Winehouse?”

 

“You go back to her and I go back toooooo Blackkkkk….well.” Max finishes lamely.

 

Her voice is smoky and throaty, and even with the crack at the end, it makes Victoria erupt in goosebumps.

 

“Nice.” Victoria says.

 

“I’m here all week.”  

 

“Unfortunately.”

 

“Hey. You chose to be here.”

 

“I don’t think anyone chooses to be in a Mohawk Station, Max. We just end up here.”

 

“This gas station is offensive.” Max says.

 

“This gas station has a cappuccino machine.” Victoria takes a leggy step out of the car.

 

Max unbuckles and follows her at a jog.

 

“Victoria Chase, I remember you saying,” She adopts a shrill tone, “‘Ugh, if I ever sink to buying a cappuccino from a gas station just put me down.’”

 

“Max… shut up.” Victoria still holds the door open.

 

She loves her, but the tension between them is tight. She’s going to drop the topic instead of poking at it, like she would have at the beginning of the trip.

 

It’s true what they say, you don’t really know someone until you take a trip with them. That’s a true test of friendship. They’ve lasted this long and she doesn’t want to push it.

 

She fills a bag with two dollars worth of penny candy and waits for Victoria by the counter. Her lipstick looks imperfect and there are bags under her eyes.

 

Victoria takes a sip from her sweet processed coffee drink and closes her eyes. When she opens them she sees Max offering a pinkie.

 

With a sigh, she takes it. Max leads them out of the gas station and watches the scattering of cold rain hit the pavement.

 

“I still think it would be nice to have a white Christmas one of these days.” She says, shivering and pulling her hoodie closer.

 

“Next year you can come to my family’s chalet. It’s like… super lame, but, you know, snow.”

 

Max pushes her head down increasing her double chin and smirking at Victoria.

 

“What’s that face for?” Victoria says.

 

“Love you.” Max headbutts her.

 

Keeping the hot drink aloft, Victoria pulls Max into a one-armed hug. 

 

“Love you too.” She grumbles.

 

Max climbs into the driver’s seat and frowns as she tries to pull it forward. She has to scoot it several times and pointedly ignores Victoria’s laughter.

 

She adjusts the mirrors to her lower field of vision and plugs her iPod into the AUX cable.

 

Victoria naps with her headphones in for the drive back. There’s a splash of pink in the grey as the sun sets over the water. Max sighs, it’s barely four o’clock. What the fuck winter.

 

Max passes the town border around the time that Victoria snuffles awake. She shifts in her seat and rubs a hand over her face.

 

“Whattimeisit?” She says.

 

“Like 4:15.” Max says.

 

“It’s dark…. what the fuck, winter?”

 

Max smiles but doesn’t say anything.

 

The statue in front of Blackwell is lit up but the parking lot seems darker than usual.

 

“Pretty spoopy.” Max says.

 

Victoria doesn’t respond, eyes fixed on her phone.

 

Max leans on the steering wheel, sucking her teeth and unsure of how to proceed. Victoria unbuckles slowly, still looking at her phone. The light from it makes the shadows under her eye more pronounced. It would be a nice shot, but Victoria would hate looking so sickly on film.

 

Tired of waiting in uneasy silence, Max piles out and grabs her bag from the back seat. Victoria has her hand on the handle, but stays in the car.

 

“I’ll see you inside?” Max says.

 

“Yeah. Sorry. I’ve gotta call my mom.” Victoria says.

 

“Is everything okay?” Max tips her head.

 

“Yeah. It’s fine.” 

 

Max’s eyes widen and she takes that at face value. The path to the dorms still lights up the holiday themed art displays. Honestly, they’re tacky as fuck.

 

She swipes her dorm key card, but the door light remains red. Shifting her bag to the other shoulder, she pulls out her phone.

 

“Ugh, fuck off.”

 

She texts Kate to let her in. Less than a minute later, Kate appears at the window, massive hair down for a change.

 

“Hey, yeah, they’re in the middle of changing the key cards over for post-Winter Break.” She says.

 

“Of course they couldn’t do this at a convenient time.” Max huffs.

 

“It’s convenient for them I guess.” Kate says.

 

She holds the door open for Max. 

 

Max shivers on entry. The common room is filled with people, surprisingly. Brooke is sprawled out on her stomach on the sofa. She’s braiding Taylor’s hair while the other girl chats animatedly to Courtney and Dana. Alyssa is guarding her box of poptarts while sharing earbuds with Stella. 

 

Dana hops up to pull Max into a backpack hug.

 

“Hey, Max! How was your vacation?” She says.

 

“It was really nice. How was yours?”

 

The eyes of everyone in the common room are on her.

 

“Awful, actually.” Dana says through a wince.

 

“Everyone had… not great holidays.” Kate says.

 

“Oh yeah? I’m gonna go put my bag away.” Max says.

 

The jog down the hall feels the same, but different with time and space. Her rug is still there, the Captain is still resting by her pillow.

 

She collapses onto her bed. Max lets her body settle

 

‘It’s like I’m so tired I can feel the rotation of the Earth. I feel like I’m being tugged everywhere but nowhere. Like, I want to go out and share stories with everyone, but I need like ten minutes of fucking silence. I hope Victoria isn’t pissed at me for like… not filling her car up or whatever.’

 

Max reaches across to the Hifi and plays some Vitamin String Quartet.

  
  


Victoria fishes around in her bag for her e-Cigarette. It smells like cloves and fills the car with a Christmas cookie smell. There’s a knock at the window and she unlocks the door.

 

In slides Nathan, looking pale and tired as usual.

 

“Hey.” She says.

 

“Hey, how was Christmas with the Rawfeels?” He says, lighting up a cigarette.

 

She rolls down the window and whacks him with the back of her hand.

 

“It was nice, really nice. I didn’t get a home run, but it did feel like a home.”

 

“So you didn’t get your lips and fingertips wet?”

 

Victoria scoffs and rolls her eyes, “Open door policy.”

 

“Did they wanna watch you bang? I knew she was into weird shit. The quiet ones are always kinky fucks.”

 

Victoria blows vapour in his face.

 

“Ohhh! You’re making me wet with your pussy smoke.”

 

“Nathan!”

 

She slaps the wheel in emphasis.

 

He cackles, “You’re so touchy, Victoria.”

 

“Oh yeah, how was your Christmas? I barely heard from you. I thought you might’ve…. I dunno, forgotten about me.” She finishes lamely.

 

Nathan’s face is dark except for the cherry glow of his cigarette. He ignores the implications of her dropped sentence.

 

“We always go up to the cabin for Christmas. So, this year I went right after school got out. I was excited to see Kristine and Mom.”

 

Victoria waits.

 

“Dad called to say he had a meeting in Japan and I was like ‘Fuck yes’, because it would finally be a nice holiday. Then Kris called to say El Nino was fucking up the planes and Mom… I dunno… forgot.”

 

“No…”

 

“Yeah, so I spent Christmas alone with nothing but snow and ghosts. Maybe a wendigo or a yeti. Broke my edging record though.”

 

“You’re disgusting.” She rolls her eyes.

 

“21 hours Victoria, admit it, you’re jellin.”

 

She curls her lip and raises both brows.

 

“How did you even stay awake or not get bored?”

 

“It’s all in the twist of the wrist, and also my meds.”

 

“Jesus, Nathan.”

 

“The ghosts were impressed.” He says.

 

Victoria pats his shoulder, then gives it a strong squeeze.

 

“Still a better Christmas than last year.” He says.

 

“That’s good.”

 

He looks at her and drops the butt of his smoke out the window.

 

“So, why are you sulking in here instead of tapping that solid six booty you snagged?”

 

“Max is so much higher than a six!” Victoria’s voice gets shrill.

 

“That seven in a good light booty?” Nathan offers.

 

She scoffs again and gets out of the car.

 

Nathan climbs out, leaning on the roof, he points to her.

 

“You’re avoiding the question.”

 

“We’ve been together like all day everyday for like a week and I just need five fucking minutes to myself. We had introvert time together, but I need to be allowed to just be gross and not trying to impress her or anyone else.”

 

There are tiny tears gathering in the corners of her eyes.

 

Nathan’s quiet for a good moment, “Is this about farting?”

 

Victoria stamps her foot and grabs her bags from the trunk.

 

“Yeah, a little bit…” She sighs.

 

“I thought, like, if you like someone and you’re comfortable then you can just fart around them? Is this a girl thing?”

 

“No, believe me, Taylor’s ass is foul and I’m pretty sure Kate is the SBD bandit of movie night--anyway, I was eating like all this rich food at her parents’ house and it felt constant. I’m so gross she’s probably gonna wanna dump me.”

 

He laughs at her.

 

“Fuck you, Nathan!” She shouts, heading back towards the dorms.

 

“No thanks, I’m afraid you’ll give me a Dutch Oven at this point!”

 

* * *

 

Chloe: So, yeah, Italian dudes are really persistent and now I have a sexy mugshot to send home. Europe’s great though. Everything is so old. Like, impossibly old. I’m walking on roads built by the Roman Empire and shit. It’s whack. Megan knows all the history and stops to give me a lecture like every ten seconds. It drives me nuts, but it’s also pretty cool. Give my Mom a hug for me. 

 

Max sent an image: oldasballs.png

 

Max: Wowsers! That is so cool. I’m super jel you’re getting to see all of this history and stuff. Did you do Venice? Are you going to? Because it’s gonna be a sunken city soon and you’ll only be able to hang out if you get your Lara Croft on. Not that that’s a deal breaker, pretty sure you could rock the action archaeologist thing.

 

My Christmas was good. Victoria came to visit the folks with me. We spent a week together and now she’s all weird….

 

Max erases that last sentence. She doesn’t need to vent about relationship shit to Chloe. Besides, it might be a week before she reads it and things with Victoria will (hopefully) be patched up by then.

 

Max: Now, I’m just scaring my skinny ass by watching Top 15 scary videos on Youtube and contemplating cup ramen. Ringing in the New Year like a cool kid. Auld Lang Syne. Love you, Chloe.

 

She leaves her laptop open and flops back onto her bed. A shower and switch into her hilarious Etsy-made faux Resident Evil 7 jammies has her feeling more human and less like a road trip lump.

 

She stretches her arms and legs, then pulls her thigh up to stretch the ‘old war wound’. 

 

Max does a few rowing crunches then drops her limbs. She rolls off the bed, energized enough to see everyone again.

 

The carpet really does need cleaning. It feels tacky under her bare feet. Back in the common room she spots that Juliet has joined the group on the floor.

 

“Hey Max, welcome back.” Kate says.

 

“Hey guys. How were your holidays?” Max’s voice is low.

 

They all look at each other and then back to her.

 

“Awful.” They say in unison.

 

“Well, mine wasn’t that bad.” Dana admits.

 

Taylor widens her eyes and shakes her head.

 

“He’s really nice.” Dana says.

 

“Who is?” Max says.

 

“Dana’s got a new stepdad. He’s five years older than her.” Taylor blurts out.

 

Max watches the steely flash of anger cross Dana’s eyes. She closes them and bites out a smile.

 

“He was my mom’s personal assistant.” She grinds out.

 

Max looks around for some help on how to react. Everyone has furrowed brows, except Brooke, who is looking at her phone.

 

“That’s… um… great, Dana? Like, I’m glad your mom’s happy?”

 

Dana nods, “That’s how I feel about it. It’s still weird. My brother hates it.”

 

“That is kinda weird.” Max says.

 

“How about you, Kate?” She says.

 

Kate laughs harshly, “My aunt is going through,” She finger quotes, “‘the change’ and was a complete.... terror over Christmas. She actually got into a fist fight at Mass.”

 

“Yooo.” Max says.

 

“Yeah.”

 

Max looks around, Taylor volunteers next.

 

“I spent Christmas in the hospital.”

 

“Oh. Sorry about that.”

 

Stella is looking over Brooke’s shoulder, but she says, “My family doesn’t celebrate Christmas. I spent the holiday working at my dad’s store selling last minute items and keeping up with our winter readings. We splurged for take out on the 25th and watched The Simpsons. Doesn’t sound as bad as Warren’s holiday.”

 

“What happened to Warren?” Kate says.

 

Brooke holds a finger up for silence. Everyone gathers around.

 

“‘I ordered a fleshlight for a Christmas present for myself--’”

 

“Ewwww.” Kate, Taylor, and Juliet say.

 

Brooke presses on, “‘--it was supposed to arrive a few weeks after Christmas. Slow shipping is cheaper and it’s more low key that way. It arrived on the 24th. My mom put it under the Christmas tree. Then piled a bunch more boxes on top of it. Christmas morning I realize with horror that it is under the tree and my parents are expecting me to unwrap it. I pretend it’s a regular flashlight, then my dad unscrews the cap and asks where the light is.”

 

Dana’s got her face in her hands. Stella is trying and failing to stifle laughter. Max shakes her head, lips rolled and eyes to the ceiling.

 

“Oh my goodddd.” Juliet groans.

 

“So, he tries to flick the switch and the whole thing opens. Tube of flesh coloured silicone on display for my parents to see with the molded lady parts at the top. Sooo…. I spent the rest of my holiday grounded.”

 

“I’m sorry, but he can’t say the word vagina, but he’ll buy a canned version of one.” Alyssa sputters.

 

Taylor loses it laughing.

 

“Warren…” Kate sighs.

 

“Oh my fucking god.” Max jumps at the voice by her shoulder.

 

Victoria has wet hair from the shower and her eyelashes seem darker in the current light. She has her robe and pyjama pants on. Max licks her lips.

 

“I walked in on the end of that, but I’m going to guess that Graham’s nasty ass got caught with a sex toy. God, I mean, like, we know he can’t get any on his own, but I don’t want him fucking a pocket pussy seared into my brain.”

 

“Lovely as always to see you, Victoria.” Kate says with a flat voice.

 

Max makes a small delighted noise at the warm hand that slides across her stomach to possessively grab her hip. 

 

Brooke has her face folded, still sore about the negative comments about Warren. 

 

Courtney extracts herself from the situation by getting up to use the kitchen.

 

“I’m gonna boil the kettle, anyone want me to make them something?” She says.

 

“There’s some instant coffee powder in my cupboard.” Stella says.

 

“Stella, you’re drinking coffee at 8?” Kate says.

 

Stella gives her the ‘you know me’ look.

 

Max twists her toes on the carpet, enjoying the company of everyone, but very aware of the nose pressing to her temple. The kiss pressed there.

 

Dana shoots her an amused smirk.

 

There’s a finger running along the spot where her shorts meet her thigh. Max isn’t sure if she’s pulling off a convincing poker face or if she’s gone bright red.

 

Taylor hops up.

 

“Victoria, hey! How was your holiday?”

 

Victoria returns the hug Taylor throws around her neck. Max shuffle a few steps away. She should let them catch up.

 

“Stella, come get your coffee!” Courtney says from the kitchen.

 

Stella sounds like a disgruntled pug as she wiggles her way off to the kitchen. Max tucks in by the couch, sitting gingerly on the edge of a cushion.

 

“Juliet, how about you?”

 

“It was fine, I guess. Zachary’s in Mexico with his parents and he isn’t replying to my messages.”

 

“Oh, that’s too bad.”

 

Courtney comes back in with a mug of tea and sets it down before slumping next to Max.

 

“So, you and Victoria had fun?”

 

Max tries to edge away from the sudden proximity.

 

“Uh, yeah, we were staying with my parents. How was your holiday?”

 

“Hanukkah was in early December, so we just chilled out and did lots of baking.” Courtney looks at Max over the rim of her cup.

 

Alyssa shifts her weight to stand up, “That reminds me, Max. I got a book for Solstice that you might wanna borrow. My parents like to get me old romance novels. This one is called The Price of Salt.”

 

“Is it gay?”

 

“....Yes.”

 

Max makes grabby hands.

 

Alyssa laughs, “Okay, let me get it from my room.”

 

Taylor laughs too loud at something Victoria says and Courtney rolls her eyes. Max watches Alyssa’s retreating figure, caught in a stare. 

 

Juliet heads to bed first, citing a need to research her next article. Max yawns wide, waving her off as Alyssa returns, book in hand.

 

“Don’t spill anything on it.” Alyssa warns.

 

“I would never.” Max says.

 

She feels Kate’s glare on the side of her head and laughs nervously.

 

Victoria stage yawns and strides over to climb atop Max’s lap like an attention-seeking cat.

 

“Hi.” Max says.

 

“I’m tired.” Victoria says.

 

“Hi, Tired. I’m Max.”

 

Victoria rolls her eyes and buries her face in Max’s neck. She presses a kiss there. Max’s leg begins to shake.

 

“I guess it’s bedtime.” Max clears her throat.

 

Victoria gets up and offers Max a hand. Victoria leads her down by the hall. Looking back she sees Taylor’s head drop and Dana pat her shoulder.

 

“What is up with you today?” Max says when they reach Victoria’s door.

 

“What do you mean?” She says.

 

Max follows her in and sits on the couch.

 

“You’re all hot and cold. More than usual. It’s like, after the car ride, you didn’t even wanna be seen with me.”

 

Victoria folds her legs under herself and inspects her nail beds while considering her words.

 

“I needed alone time.” She says.

 

“You could have just said, ‘Max, I need some alone time.’ Then! I have autism, Victoria, if you get all weird then I think I’ve fucked up.”

 

“I’m not going to apologize for needing space.” Victoria’s head snaps up.

 

“You don’t have to! I just need a heads up about what you’re feeling, because it’s always a guess for me.”

 

“Always?” Victoria says, forehead wrinkled.

 

Max sighs, “No, not always. It’s hyperbole. I can tell certain cues because I know them, and there’s obviously signs of happy, sad, whatever. But, if you don’t talk much then there’s not a lot to go on.”

 

Victoria rubs her cheek, “Sorry I worried you, Max.”

 

Max stands up and walks over to Victoria. She pulls her hands from her lap and kisses the individual fingers.

 

“Do you wanna sleep together?” She says.

 

“L-like have sex?” Victoria says.

 

“Or we could just sleep. I mean, you’re allowed to change your mind on either.”

 

Victoria laughs, “I feel like the whole dorm expects us to be having sex.”

 

“They’re just projecting.”

 

“Do you wanna bang?” Victoria says.

 

Max snorts, “Well, yeah, but no pressure.”

 

“Oh. I’m actually still tired from traveling.” Victoria says.

 

“Kay cool.” Max yawns.

 

“But I am horny.” Victoria says.

 

Max turns to look at her seemingly mulling something over.

 

“Lie down on the bed.” Max says.

 

Victoria’s shaking as she sits at the edge, then shuffles backwards. Her hands tent and fold across her chest. Max kisses her with heat. Victoria moans into the kiss, hands coming up to tangle with Max’s hair.

 

Max’s hands go to the buttons on Victoria’s pyjamas. She lets her lips follow the trail of exposed skin leading from Victoria’s neck to her navel. Max licks the flat space below the softness below her belly, but above the waistline of her pants.

 

Victoria whimpers at the sensation, as well as Max tugging at her pants. 

 

Max rests her head on Victoria’s hip and looks up at her for permission. Victoria swallows her dry throat and gives her a jerky nod.

 

Max smiles and tugs Victoria’s pants off to expose bare skin. She raises her eyebrows at Victoria.

 

“You’re supposed to air it out during the night.” Victoria says.

 

“Okay.” Max says.

 

Then she’s pushing Victoria’s thighs apart to sniff the space between. Max lets her head fall back, basking in the scent.

 

“Max, don’t be weird.”

 

“Sniffing you is weird?” Max says.

 

“I, uh, no?” Victoria covers her face with her hands.

 

“Cause it smells nice. Mouthwatering.” Max’s voice gets all husky.

 

That voice just makes Victoria wetter. Little nips to her adductor tendons have her yelping and her legs shaking. She looks between her fingers to see Max blowing between the folds and then having her first taste.

 

That itch, the unbearable warmth in her belly has found something to sate it. Victoria releases a long, low moan. It’s more like a sigh at the end. Max echoes it, pushing her face further in to taste. Victoria gasps and writhes at the slippery, wet tongue brushing up and down her folds, then sliding down to push inside her.

 

“Max.” She says.

 

She claws at the sheet.

 

Max worms a hand up Victoria’s body to pinch and rub an exposed nipple. That alone gets Victoria’s eyes rolling to the back of her head.

 

“Oh my god.” She says going from a gasp to a whine.

 

Max catches Victoria’s clit between her teeth and mercilessly beats it with her tongue. 

 

Victoria’s hips are shaking and her back is arched off the bed.

 

“Jesus!” She’s coming and Max shows no signs of stopping.

 

One orgasm fades into the next and Victoria can feel tears beading at the corners of her eyes.

 

Max comes up from air, not bothering to wipe the wetness off her chin or the smirk off her face. She licks her way back up to Victoria’s mouth, pausing to bite a nipple. 

 

Victoria pulls Max up for a kiss and enjoys the grinding of her bare lower half with Max’s clothed crotch. Max bites her lower lip and laughs at Victoria’s reaction.

 

“Holy shit.” Victoria says.

 

“I’ve been wanting to do that since my first taste back at my parents house.” Max says.

 

Victoria pants a laugh, “Wasn’t it since dodgeball?”

 

“Well, yeah, but that was hypothetical. Before my epic fail fingering you.” 

 

Victoria winces at the nomenclature, “It wasn’t that bad.”

 

Max hums, looking down.

 

“Well, it’s not your fault. Sneaking around under the panties with your parents downstairs gives everyone performance anxiety. I want people to know when you’re fucking me, but not your mom and dad.”

 

Max folds her mouth.

 

Victoria’s voice gets higher, “And I have no room to talk because I haven’t even gone that far with you. And it doesn’t matter because you are a master of eating me out.”

 

She looks at Max, hoping she’s dug herself out of that hole instead of digging deeper.

 

Max pats her on the cheek patronizingly, “You tried.”

 

“I’m sorry. Thank you for-for that.” She points down.

 

Max cracks up, “I think I like flustered, post-coital Victoria.”

 

“Oh, shut up.” Victoria covers her rapidly reddening face.

 

Max is still laughing when Victoria pushes her over and reverses their positions.

 

“You said you were tired.” Max says, looking up at Victoria with puffy lips and blown eyes.

 

“I’m only going to be exercising my mouth, Max, I can handle that.”

 

Max gapes at her and covers her own face with an arm.

 

Victoria pushes up the bottom of Max’s T-Shirt to blow on her navel.

 

“This shirt is hideous by the way.”

 

“Jill Valentine is my waifu and you’re just jealous.” Max huffs.

 

“Bitch, I am your waifu.” Victoria says and she drags Max’s shorts and panties off.

 

Faced with vagina, Victoria blushes. The patch of hair is dark brown and soft. Between it are dark red lips weeping with wetness. 

 

Taking a deep breath, her forehead wrinkles and she takes an experimental lick.

 

Oh. She can see why Max went to town on this.

 

Unlike her, Max isn’t whimpering and writhing. With a deeper frown, Victoria looks up to check her face.

 

Max is biting her hand, eyes lidded and chest heaving. Oh wow. What a great look for her.

 

Victoria digs in, lapping at moisture and remembering from her research to trace letters of the alphabet on Max’s clit.

 

V… I… C… T… O… R--Max’s hand pushes her face in further. So she likes the ‘R’ shape.

 

Max is twitching and biting her wrist. She’s gonna leave a bruise if she keeps that up. Something’s still holding her back from finishing though. Victoria goes in harder, not one to be one-upped by Max Caulfield.

 

Max comes with a yelp and Victoria pulls away for a deep breath. She wipes her mouth on the palm of her hand. Victoria smacks her lips and frowns, sticking her tongue out, she pulls a hair off.

 

“Pleh.” 

 

“Mmhm.”

 

Victoria is pulled up by insistent arms. She meets Max’s pursed lips with a kiss and pulls her into a hug. It’s weird to mix their tastes together in her mouth. Not bad weird, just different.

 

“I thought there’d be more fanfare to losing my virginity.” She says after they part.

 

Max tangles their legs together at the knee. She brushes her lips against Victoria’s collarbone.

 

“Not all you expected it to be?” She says.

 

“Honestly? Like, I was expecting a grunting guy and feeling uncomfortable while he’s rooting around down there, sucking his dick… you know.”

 

Max squints at her, “I worry about you sometimes.”

 

“This was much better in comparison.” Victoria strokes the exposed part of Max’s stomach.

 

“I’m glad.” Max says through a yawn.

 

Victoria catches the yawn and paws overhead to pull back the covers.

 

“Are you gonna spend the night?” She asks.

 

Max frowns through closed eyes, “If that’s okay with you?”

 

“I just… feel a little gross tonight.” Victoria says.

 

“If this is about having gas, I really don’t care. Also, you fart in your sleep.”

 

Victoria sputters. Max laughs.

 

“That was it, wasn’t it?”

 

She gets a scandalized huff in response. Max follows Victoria under the covers. 

 

They’re half dozing, caught in the required amount of snuggling for a twin sized mattress. Max’s arm is tucked under Victoria’s neck and they’re skin to skin.

 

“Do you need to process anything after that visit?” Max says.

 

“Are you sure your parents like me?” Victoria says in a small voice.

 

“If they didn’t they wouldn’t be quiet about it. You’re good.”

 

“Then, no. I had fun. I did get exhausted of visiting after like day seven.”

 

“I get exhausted of visiting after two hours.” Max says.

 

“They’re your family.” Victoria says.

 

“And they know that I’m antisocial.” 

 

Victoria hums, content.

 

“You always leave the light on.” Max grumbles, getting up to switch off the light.

 

“It doesn’t bother me to sleep with the light on.” Victoria says.

 

She stretches across the bed to grab a sip of water. Then she instantly needs to pee. She shakes out her pants and redresses. Max does the same, going across the hall to fetch her retainer and phone.

 

Once resettled, they’re enjoying the slow sliding sensation of moving their thighs against each other. Victoria shucked off her pants the minute she returned. Max stared, but didn’t comment. She’s not going to complain about the view.

 

“Did you get what you wanted for Christmas?” Max says.

 

Victoria’s so silent Max thinks she might have passed out. Then she hears the clearing of a throat and wetting of lips.

 

“Max, I don’t want a lot for Christmas,”

 

“Don’t.”

 

“There’s just one thing I need.”

 

“Victoria.”

 

“I don’t care about the presents underneath the Christmas tree. Make my wish come true. All I want for Christmas is you.” She Mariah Carries the last note for a solid twenty seconds.

 

Max is shaking her head and trying not to laugh.

 

“I’ve changed my mind, I’m gonna sleep in my own room.” She says.

 

“Nooo… stay.”

 

There’s a crash on the other side of the wall that has them pausing in their burgeoning tug of war.

 

“The fuck, Brooke?” Victoria says.

 

Then there’s a yelp.

 

“Maybe she dropped her computer on her foot.” Max says.

 

A moan.

 

“That better not be Warren.” Victoria says.

 

“I’m conflicted because I want them both to stop being horny and annoying, but I also don’t ever want to hear evidence of it.” Max says.

 

They listen further in silence.

 

“Taylor!” Brooke’s muffled voice comes in through the wall.

 

Through the darkness they exchange a confused glance.

 

“Wait, really?” Victoria says.

 

“Plot twist.” Max says.

 

“Maybe that’ll finally get her off my dick.” Victoria says.

 

“Or she’s trying to make you jealous.” Max says, opening her phone.

 

Victoria hisses and squints at the light glare, “What are you doing?”

 

“Taking a sleepy selfie with you for posterity.” Max says.

 

Victoria tries to wiggle away with a, “Noooooo!”

 

“Stay put!”

 

“I washed my makeup off. I look like a ghoul.”

 

“Nonsense, you still have a nose.”

 

The selfie Max takes ends up having Victoria’s scrunched up sneer and her own stoned expression.

 

“We look fantastic.” Max says.

 

“Delete that photo!” Victoria reaches for the phone.

 

“I’m putting it on instagram.” Max rolls to put it out of reach.

 

“Max, don’t you dare!” Victoria says.

 

“Then pose for a good one.” Max says.

 

Victoria holds her hand out and Max drops the phone there. They settle, heads together and chins down to prevent visible double chin. Victoria’s thumb slides over the capture button just as Max darts left to kiss her cheek. The photo captured has Max caught in a hazy motion blur, but her expression is sleepy and affectionate. Victoria looks surprised with a half smile.

 

Victoria pulls the phone down to look at it. Her thumb hovers over the delete button. Max tugs the phone away to squint at.

 

“This is a good picture.” She says in that breathless way.

 

“Send it to me.” Victoria says.

 

“Mmkay. Love you, goodnight.” Max kisses her cheek again.

 

Victoria stares at the ceiling, letting her body settle.

 

“Love you.” She says quietly.

 

* * *

 

  
  


Victoria wakes up to her own alarm. Max groans by her elbow and an arm reaches across her to grope the mattress.

 

“I got it.” Victoria says.

 

“‘Time is it?” Max says.

 

“Nine.” Victoria says.

 

She checks her messages. One email from Max containing that photo. She smiles and makes it her wallpaper. Three texts, two from Taylor, one from Mother. She feels anxiety bloom in her chest out of the garden of peaceful contentment.

 

She opens the texts from Taylor first.

 

Taylor: Lol, srry if we were 2 loud last nite ;)

           Are you mad at me?????

 

Victoria checks the message from her mother.

 

AAAMother: Some of your original photographs are missing from my office. Did you find a buyer?

 

A new text arrives. She rolls her eyes, assuming it’s from Taylor.

 

Vanessa Caulfield: Hey, Victoria it’s Vanessa! I just wanted to thank you again for coming and check up on you and Max. Was it a good drive back? Remind Max to water her plant for me. Lisa’s probably thirsty after ten days :)

                             Oh! And before I forget. Ryan and I put up the photos you gave us in the kitchen.

 

One new picture message. It’s a sideways photo of the kitchen, the photos are mounted on the wall, eye level above the dinner table and sandwiched between school photos of Max.

 

Victoria scrubs away her smile, puts her phone down and rolls over to cuddle her girlfriend.

  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> It's kind of implied, but to make it clear, I've written Vanessa as Native American (particularly Hopi) thus making Max mixed. The only picture of Vanessa in-game is small and blurry, but she looks ambiguously brown and Max wearing the dreamcatcher in Episode 5 made me headcanon this.
> 
> Parents are different through text than they are in person. I thought it would make a fun juxtaposition that Vanessa is serious in person but sends 'mom texts' with lots of smilies, and that Ryan is a goof who sends stern text messages.
> 
> Victoria is mixed like in my other fics. 
> 
> BrookeTaylor has long been a crack ship of mine. However, the question remains: did they actually hook up or were they pulling an Easy A to get the attention of their respective crushes? It's open to interpretation.


End file.
